


Like Smoke and Darkness

by EmeraLumi



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha/Omega Vibe but not really, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, As close to stalking as you can get without actually stalking, Belonging, Ben Solo is Not Nice, But kind of just a tease, Compulsion, Dark, Dark & Twisty, Doggy Style, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominant Ben Solo, F/M, Free Use implied, Lingerie, Masturbation, Mildly Dubious Consent, My First Work in This Fandom, No Pregnancy, Obsessive Behavior, Obsessive Rey (Star Wars), One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Safe to read if you are triggered by pregnancy, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut, Submissive Rey (Star Wars), Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, Well there's a dash of plot, mildly dark, negative self-talk, neighbours who want to fuck, no beta we die like men, please be kind, searching for belonging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 09:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29241267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraLumi/pseuds/EmeraLumi
Summary: 'She didn’t know what possessed her to do it.  Well, she knew it was rooted in an unhealthy obsession, one that had crept over her as the days and weeks crept past.  Her actions were not rooted in logic or evidence, nor past experience.  All she was aware of, was an undeniable urge.  It had started as a soft voice, like a caress in the back of her mind, that would surface and then melt away before she could quite catch it.  All too soon, it became almost a state of being, an awareness that it was something she didn’t simply want to do, but something she felt compelled to do.'Or:Rey finds herself a little too preoccupied with her new neighbour...
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	Like Smoke and Darkness

**Author's Note:**

> I am completely new to writing fan fic, but I really wanted to contribute to this fandom, which has brought me such joy in 2020/helped to keep me sane. And let's be honest, looks like I'm going to be leaning pretty heavily on it 2021, at the rate we are going...
> 
> This idea came to me out of the blue one night, and then literally just poured itself out on the page. While I have done some revision and edits, I wanted to put this up quickly before I chickened out or overthought the story. So if you notice a typo, or think I've missed a tag, please do let me know. 
> 
> I do hope you enjoy my little dark & twisty baby, and don't begrudge me that's it's not particularly smutty, like I said I'm new to this. Cheers and thank you for reading!
> 
> .............

She didn’t know what possessed her to do it. Well, she knew it was rooted in an unhealthy obsession, one that had crept over her as the days and weeks crept past. Her actions were not rooted in logic or evidence, nor past experience. All she was aware of, was an undeniable urge. It had started as a soft voice, like a caress in the back of her mind, that would surface and then melt away before she could quite catch it. All too soon, it became almost a state of being, an awareness that it was something she didn’t simply want to do, but something she felt compelled to do. 

………...

She’d watched her old neighbours move out with little interest, they’d never spoken or interacted. So when they packed up and left, she wondered briefly what the new tenant or tenants might be like, but she didn’t dwell on it. Surmising that they would have as little interaction as their predecessors. Perhaps, just the occasional nod of acknowledgement, as they passed each other on the shared pathway that led to their respective townhouses, each separated by only a thin sliver of lacklustre grass. 

On the night she met her new neighbour, her first encounter was actually with a wall of boxes and furniture blocking said pathway. Clearly the removalists had executed a dump and run, leaving the new tenant to move all their possessions into the house on their own. Attempting to smother her frustrations, to have to tackle this obstacle after a long tedious day at work, she began to clamber over and around the boxes. After squeezing between a bookshelf and what appeared to be a new fridge still in it’s cardboard packaging, she turned around to find herself face-to-chest with her new neighbour. Attempting to step backwards only resulted in her smacking her head against the edge of the recently conquered bookcase. Closing her eyes for a moment against the resulting sharp pain at the back of her skull, she fully expected upon reopening her eyes that her neighbor would have taken the socially appropriate step back from her.

So she was flummoxed to find him still standing so close, and was forced to crane her neck upwards in an attempt to make disgruntled eye contact. The second their gazes met she couldn’t help the desperate intake of breath through her mouth. His gaze was so intense it was searing, she felt pinned in place, as though she would have to beg to be allowed to move even an inch from his line of sight. 

“What are you doing?” those were his first words to her, rumbled deep from his chest.  
She managed to swallow, take another gasp of air and answered belligerently, “Trying to get to my front door, despite your best efforts to prevent me from doing so.” She paused, still expectant that he would begin to shift back and give her back her personal space.  
No such luck, so she continued, “Believe it or not, I don’t usually make it a habit to crawl over other people’s possessions unless absolutely necessary.”  
He offered no reaction to her attempt at humour, a meagre attempt on her behalf to break the tension.  
“You live next door?” if anything the crease between his eyebrows deepened upon asking that question.  
“Yes. Listen I’m just trying to get home, if you let me pass I’ll get out of your hair.”  
Still nothing from him, no movement, no relief.  
“My name is Rey by the way,” she contemplated offering her hand but quickly dispelled that idea, “and your name is?”  
Another pause, followed by a grunt and then, “Ben.”  
“Okay then…” Another awkward pause, only filled by the evening serenade of cicadas. “Is there… Is there something that you need from me?”  
That question provoked a smirk from him, that broke out two dimples either side of his wide mouth. This by no means softened his intense glare in any shape or form.  
“Need from you?” a burst of air left his mouth that could have been interpreted as a soft laugh, “No there is nothing I need from you.”

Rey felt her stomach plummet and turn ice cold. Logically she knew there was no way he could know how triggering those words were for her. How could he possibly know that her life was a long string of abandonments, a life filled with… Well it wasn’t filled with anything really, that was the point. It was merely absence, walking within a framework or the cut-out of a life’s shape. But to Rey, it felt like he knew exactly what he was saying to her, and just how it would make her feel. Like he could see that deep down in her soul she was nothing, a nobody, just a useless piece of driftwood washed upon his currently box-filled shores. 

“But I think you need something from me,” Ben whispered, as he loomed even closer.  
It was instantaneous, how she suddenly felt like electricity was buzzing through her veins. She’d known this man for less than a minute, but yes she thought, yes I do need something from you. How could he have known, when she herself didn’t know?

His left hand snaked out to firmly grasp her right wrist, it wasn’t a kind grip, it flirted on the edge of pain. Ben began to tug her into walking deeper through the maze of his possessions. With a few winding twists he led her through, proving there was a sort of logic to the haphazard pile, until they made it to clear ground, close to where the shared pathway split in two and wound off to their respective houses. She was so sure that he would immediately let her wrist go and return to his unpacking. Instead, his grip remained and he forcibly led her all the way to her own front door, propelling her forwards at the last second so that she was ahead and his body bracketed hers within the doorway. His grip on her wrist meant that she couldn’t get her keys easily out of her jacket pocket, but he did not let go, simply remained close behind her. 

“Well,” he murmured into her ear, “what are you waiting for?”  
Rey gave a whimper, but it wasn’t scared, no. It was needy, it was like a child’s cry of hunger. With her fingers shaking, her left hand crept into her right pocket and awkwardly jiggled her keys out into her palm. She kept her gaze pinned forward on her door, and by feel alone, found the key for her front door on her keychain. It took her a few tries to successfully slot it into the lock, in all that time, Ben did not let go or step back. He simply stood, so close that she could feel his breath and heat behind her. Finally she managed to catch the key in the lock and turn it to open her door. She pushed it open, letting it swing wide, keys left in the door but she did not dare to take a step forward. Rey was waiting for his permission to move, knowing somehow that it wouldn’t be wise to pull away first. 

“Good girl,” Ben crooned, while squeezing her wrist further.  
Rey felt the pulse at her core and even though she dug her teeth into her lower lip, she couldn’t stop another whimper from escaping. This one lasted even longer, it seemed to shudder through her whole body. So slowly, Ben released her wrist, his fingers dragging along her skin and fingertips until the last possible second.  
“Head inside now Rey,” Ben was so close now that his breath tickled her nape with his next words, “Home sweet home...”  
On trembling legs, Rey began to shuffle inside her doorway, once through the threshold she turned and held onto the edge of the door to look back at Ben.  
He gave her another vicious smirk, “Sleep tight...”  
Now, only now, did her look her over, dragging his gaze down the length of her body. Slowly, leisurely, all the way down and then back up to her eyes. His turn back towards the path was so sudden it startled her, and she held her breath as walked towards his stacked boxes until he wormed his way out of sight. It was only when she could no longer see him, and she felt like she could safely breathe once more, that she moved. She slammed her door closed and then slid down her hallway wall to puddle onto the hardwood floor. Taking deep ragged breaths, she tried to gather her thoughts but found that she couldn’t, they kept slipping and sliding. 

When she could finally wrangle her mind together, the first thought which bubbled up was ‘What the FUCK what that?!’ That was surely reportable; she queried internally, she should be calling the police, or someone right? Perhaps the body corporate at least? A certifiable wackjob had just moved next door to her, and surely she should be taking action, right? But she didn’t reach for her phone, she didn’t even move off the floor, simply melted further into it. Her wrist felt aflame, as though she could still feel his hand there, like he was anchoring her in space. With her left hand she gently cradled her right wrist, softly stroking the skin there as if trying to coax it to behave. After a few moments, her mind emptied again and she felt hollow, weightless. 

Weightless, as she slowly floated up the stairs to her bedroom. Feather light, as she shucked her clothes, letting them fall to the floor unattended. Brittle, as she gingerly crawled under the covers of her bed. And then empty. So empty as she tossed and turned the night away. Just a hollow aching shell of a human being.

……...

She did try her best to cast him from her mind. To ignore his close presence in her life. Truly she did. In fact their paths barely crossed after that first meeting. But somehow she found herself always aware of his comings and goings, no matter the day or hour. She tended to leave before him in the mornings. If it happened to feel like she was dragging herself away each day with lead feet, well, she chose not to reflect upon that. Her days were blurry and edged with fog until she began to make her way back home. Then her mind slowly came back into focus, returning to crystal clarity the second she could look upon his house. He would arrive home later in the evening than her, and she would be filled with a restless energy up until that point, when his sleek black car would come careening back into his carpark. He would bound into his house like unrestrained violence, edgeless and dramatic. His energy would continue to simmer for a while before it began to gently calm. The only upside, in Rey’s mind, to his late return home, was that it allowed her to get her evening routine out of the way completely. So that he could have her undivided attention. 

The angle between their houses was strained and awkward but from her first floor bedroom window she could see into his open plan kitchen and living room, if she positioned herself just so. Without ever making the conscious choice to do so, she spent every evening watching him, the hopeless voyeur. She hated that she did so, every day she would make a weak promise to herself that today was the last time. But every night she found herself at her perch, kneeling low with her ankles crossed underneath her, leaning into her view. 

Every evening, he would initially move chaotically through the house, laptop case thrown onto the kitchen island, tie tossed into the corner with disdain. His hair which had been perfectly coiffed just so, would be ruffled into loucheness with a careless hand. He would usually turn to a drink next, Rey would have taken him for a whisky man at first glance but his tastes were clearly varied. Various iterations of drinks would be pilfered from the fridge or freezer. One night a clear spirit, frosty and crisp, drunk neat over ice, the next a deep blood red wine, the next the neck of a bottle of craft ale would grace his lips. He would take long pulls of whatever his chosen drink and Rey would lick her lips in answer. 

From there his routine would vary. Some nights he would eat, others not, which would make Rey’s stomach pang in sympathy and frustration. ‘He should be eating’ she would think uselessly. Sometimes, he would pull out his laptop to continue working, other nights he would watch something on his TV. Other nights, he would simply sit and stare into the middle distance. Rey would spend hours agonising over where his thoughts might be taking him, what images passed through his mind. Her favourite nights, though she was loath to admit, were when would loosen or remove his shirt completely so that she got a closer look at his sineous frame. He wasn’t ‘cut’, he wasn’t a man who spent hours slaving at the gym. He was solid and strong, his muscles hadn’t been crafted for show they simply were - a natural extension of his large frame. Thick biceps, strong chest and solid core, all pale skin, scattered with beauty marks and moles. She remembered his fierce grip on her wrist from that first night, wondering what that grip would feel like put to use on other parts of her body… Her hips, her thighs, her chest, her neck… She knew that his strength would help to ground and centre her. His weighted hands would get rid of this endless sense of hollowness she’d recently discovered in herself. 

No matter what Ben did, every night for Rey followed a similar pattern. Her hands would wander soft and gentle. Over her neck and breasts, down her belly, over her thighs and buttocks, down to the valley of her core. Never lingering too long in any particular spot, always restlessly moving as though searching for something, nothing would quite satisfy. Eventually her body would find a rhythm, a sway… She would undulate backwards and forwards, spine arching, mimicking that which she was seeking. And she would find completion eventually, and for a moment it would feel sweet, so, so sweet. But she would always end the evening the same way, empty and aching, frustrated. Then Ben would make his way upstairs out of sight and she would withdraw to her own bed for a night of restless sleep, her dreams filled with that same sense of hopeless wanting. 

....

More and more she would find her routine altering. The few times colleagues or acquaintances asked her to join them for evening gatherings, invitations she used to welcome, she would now turn down. Always eager to be home, to be close, waiting and ready - for what she wasn’t certain. She would avidly watch and note Ben’s routine and interests, scan a keen eye over his rubbish when she took out her own, gleaning whatever tidbits she could from it’s entrails, as though it was an augury. Rey never used to pay much particular attention to her clothes and appearance, but now she began to wonder. Would Ben prefer her hair up or down? Would he like how revealing the cut of this dress was, or would he scorn her for showing so much skin in public? Did he like her in flats or heels, in the colour blue or red?? Rey had never bought lingerie before Ben, being practical and fiscal minded, but now she spent her lunch hour scouring websites and adding wisps of silk and lace to her shopping basket. Considering if they would prove to be luscious wrappings to her body, because he would like to unwrap her wouldn’t he? She would make herself a delectable treat for him.

Weekends proved to be a unique torture. If he was home all weekend it was a gluttonous experience, she would gorge herself upon him. If he was away from home, she would work herself into a frenzy. Where was he, who was he with, what was he doing? Why wasn’t he at home with her? She found herself longing in equal measure for his presence and absence. Either way was torture in it’s own bittersweet way. She no longer recognised the internal landscape of her own mind, she was a stranger in her own skin. 

No matter what, and at any point in the day or week, there were always those soft whispers in her mind. Like smoke, like darkness, like someone licking up her spine. Urging her to act, she knew what she needed to do didn’t she? Why was she fighting it, what was taking her so long? Ben was waiting wasn’t he and he didn’t seem like a man who liked to wait?

…

One morning she woke up late and decided to take a personal health day. She so rarely took time off work, she deserved it surely? Looking out her bedroom window, she noticed that Ben had already left for the day, which was unusual for him. She felt a pang that she’d not been able to witness his morning routine, a rare treat that would have been and she was frustrated that it had been withheld from her even now. Rey was wearing one of the sets of lingerie she’d bought since meeting Ben, it was a few strands of lace strung together like cobwebs just barely covering her. She softly traced it’s edges, just like she’d caressed her wrist on that very first night they’d met. She cast her gaze around his house like she was searching for clues, and then came up short. Was that?... Surely not? But it looked like his front door was slightly ajar. That wasn’t right, that wasn’t safe. She wouldn’t be a good neighbour if she let that stand. Rey quickly pulled her satin kimono around her (another recent purchase), not bothering to fasten the ties or slip on shoes, she raced down the stairs and out her front door. 

She was only outside for a moment, she wasn’t worried anyone would see. Rey quickly slipped across their property line and over the dewey grass to his front door. She’d seen correctly, the front door was ajar, placing her hand on the door she paused. The logical next step was to close it, make sure it was locked tight and then make her way back to her own house - whose door she’d also left open in her own haste. But now that she was here on his threshold, she knew she couldn’t do it. She needed, absolutely needed, to be inside his house. It felt like a stabbing pain, that intensity of knowing she had to be inside. Cautiously she made her way inside, softly closing the door behind her, so that the house would be secure (so that she would be safe, oh she would be so safe in here). The second the door clicked shut she felt that stabbing intensity fade. This felt so right, why hadn’t she done this before? This was where she was supposed to be, inside these walls, inside his domain. 

It was warm, so very warm. Ben must clearly keep his heating on throughout the day, she thought, how needlessly luxurious. So she shucked her kimono and let it drift to the floor by the entrance, slowly making her way further into the house. She entered reverently, seeing his possessions, his life really, up close for the first time. It felt so different to seeing it all from afar. Rey took her time, there was no rush, after all she had all day before Ben would be home from work. She traversed every inch of his home, caressing the objects and surfaces she knew he touched with regularity. Everything smelt fantastic, like cyprus and smoke, like Ben she realised. That was the scent she could remember from their first encounter, it had gotten under her skin without her knowledge. It was both bliss and sin to smell it again, so strongly now. 

She went from room to room, exploring those places that she couldn’t see from her own house. She briefly thought about taking a memento from her adventure, something she could remember him by. But that wasn’t right was it? She didn’t need to take anything, Ben would give her everything she needed. Yes, that felt like the truth.

Eventually she ended up in his bedroom, her breath quickened and her skin felt tight. Her vision, so clear and focused before, seemed to shimmer. She needed to lie down, just for a moment to catch her breath. She was light headed, but once she’d taken a moment, she would be fine. Yes, soon she would be able to get up again and return to her house. Ben’s beautiful bed lay before her, soft grey sheets and downy pillows. She eased her way onto the bed, feeling it gently give to her weight. That wonderful smell was stronger here. Everything felt soft and lush. Yes she’d just spend a moment or two here and then she’d feel better. Then she could leave, she was supposed to leave wasn’t she? Was that right?...

It seemed like, in only the space of one breath and the next, she heard the distinctive sound of Ben’s car screeching into their street and sliding into his carpark. It was like a shot of adrenalin to her body, suddenly she was alert and tense. She noted the sky was now dark, when mere moments ago it had been filled with sunshine. How could that be? She was supposed to have been gone by now, safely tucked back in her own home - ‘home sweet home’ he’d told her. Ben moved so fast, she knew this, so it was no surprise she could already hear him at the door, keys in hand to unlock the door.

She feebly stirred in his bed. She should really move, she should be gone, but she couldn’t find the will to move with any speed or urgency. Instead she merely pulled herself upright to a seated position in Ben’s bed, ears keenly picking up the sounds of Ben entering the house. He would normally linger downstairs for some time when he came home, but his footsteps were already sounding on the staircase. ‘Interesting,’ thought Rey.

Rey felt herself let out a glorious sigh, it was bone melting, as though any lingering tension or resistance was leaving her body. She rolled over to her front and found herself pushing her chest and face into the bedding while lifting her hips and bottom up to the sky, like she was presenting herself as a gift. Puppy dog pose, they used to call it in her yoga classes, back when she still used to go to them, before she’d met Ben that is. She felt so relaxed, so at ease, it had felt like a lifetime since she’d felt that way.

All the while Ben’s steps were drawing slowly closer, steady but sure, until she could tell that he stood in the doorway of his bedroom. She wondered why she didn’t feel the need to hide or to make excuses for her presence. 

And then she heard his voice behind her.  
“Mmmmm…” He groaned, moving closer to the edge of the bed, closer to her. “Finally, it took you long enough.” His hands found her hips and she arched her spine further, moaning into the sheets. Ben slipped his hands under the thin straps that wrapped around her hips, “Did you buy these for me?”  
Rey shivered and nodded her head into the bedding underneath her. Ben’s nails suddenly bit into the flesh of her hips and buttocks.  
“Use your words, Rey!”  
“Yes,” she cried breathlessly, “just for you, only for you.”  
“Perfect,” he growled, his breath ghosting her skin as he slowly lowered his mouth towards her lower back and gave her a slow lick along the base of her spine.  
“Oh sweet thing… I’m going to take such good care of you, because that’s what you need isn’t it?” He punctuated the end of his question by pulling her hips back into his pelvis, so that she could feel his hard length between the crease of her cheeks. Rey idly wondered when he’d taken off his clothes. “You need me to take care of you, don’t you?”  
Rey could feel her whole body quaking, like she was about to burst apart at the seams.  
“Yes! Please, please Ben I need you… I need you!” she sobbed.  
His hands were now raking up and down her back, nails pricking her skin in pleasure pain.  
“Good girl, such a good girl… Don’t worry I’ve got you.”  
And she wasn’t worried, she felt so free but not because she was drifting, not because she was weightless. She felt free because she was grounded, this was where she was supposed to be, right here underneath him. Rey melted further underneath him, became boneless and pliable. She felt Ben’s hands grip the lace around her pelvis, and tug sharply, one quick motion and those trappings were ripped apart and sliding off to the side of her body. Now she was completely bare, completely free. 

Rey felt him move closer, bracketing her body so that his breath was close by her neck and ear and she could feel him lining himself up with her entrance. Another breathy growl right by her ear.  
“So perfect, my perfect girl.”  
She couldn’t help the whine that escaped her lips as he began to enter her.  
“Sweet thing, don’t worry I am never going to let you go.”  
A sharp thrust and he was fully seated in her and she was finally so full, complete, no empty sharp corners now.  
“This is your home now, you are all mine,” the conviction in Ben’s voice, heightened Rey’s pleasure. She could no longer tell where she ended and he began.  
“Oh sweet heart, all mine…”


End file.
